


A Ruse of Husbandly Proportions

by JayofDiamonds



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Fake Marriage, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Gen, High School Reunion, M/M, Some Red Velvet Cameos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2019-07-14 01:50:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16030508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JayofDiamonds/pseuds/JayofDiamonds
Summary: Self-prompt for Takostation Round 3!For Chanyeol's 10 year high school reunion he wants to return as a picture of success and happiness. He has a job he loves, great friends, a nice home, but he wants his life to look absolutely perfect. Naturally, he asks his best friend and flatmate Kyungsoo to pretend to be his husband for the reunion. After all, who could be a more perfect husband than Kyungsoo?





	A Ruse of Husbandly Proportions

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to the Tako Mod for endless patience and putting up with me forgetting about this for like two weeks!!  
> If you like listening to songs while you read I recommend Laboum’s Between Us and Day6’s I Smile with this!! Please enjoy!!

“Wait,” Chanyeol pauses, hand halfway through locking their front door, “do we have any sunscreen?”

Standing in the hallway behind Chanyeol with their little shared suitcase, Kyungsoo sighs, and probably rolls his eyes. “It’s October.”

“It could get sunny suddenly, you never know,” Chanyeol says to the door in front of him.

There’s the soft sound of the suitcase wheels against the carpet of the common hallway, and then Kyungsoo’s hand is on Chanyeol’s back, pressing gently through his old jean jacket. Out of the corner of his eye, Chanyeol can see Kyungsoo tilting his head to try to see into Chanyeol’s face.

“You know, we don’t have to go,” Kyungsoo says softly.

Meeting Kyungsoo’s gaze with a pout, Chanyeol sighs. “We already both took time off work. And we’re packed. Already out the door… plus I skipped the five year reunion. I _want_ to go.”

“Then let’s go.” Kyungsoo steps back and doesn’t wait as Chanyeol finally finishes locking their apartment door, walking over to press the down button to call the lift.

On the lift, Kyungsoo smiles fondly at Chanyeol’s worried expression, but Chanyeol only stares at his own reflection in the silver doors of the lift, eyes wide and eyebrows pinched up and together. “If you’re like this the whole bus ride there I’ll be filing for a fake divorce Chanyeol Park.”

With a playfully aghast expression, Chanyeol turns to look at Kyungsoo again, successfully distracted. “Don’t even joke about that!”

“Who said it was a joke?” Kyungsoo says haughtily. “Do you think we’d have a prenuptial agreement?”

Whining dramatically, Chanyeol throws himself against Kyungsoo’s arm, tucking his head into Kyungsoo’s neck pitifully. “I’m sorry Kyungsoo,” he says, half playing along, half sincere. “I don’t know why I’m so nervous.”

Kyungsoo doesn’t reciprocate, one arm wrapped tightly in Chanyeol’s grip, the other holding their suitcase, but he doesn’t shrug Chanyeol off either, smiling indulgently. From Kyungsoo, it’s as good as a hug in return, and Chanyeol basks in the closeness for a breath longer, until the lift doors open and they have to move.

It’s been a chilly and cloudy October so far, and today is no different, making Chanyeol pull his jean jacket closer around himself when they step outside. Kyungsoo gives him a funny look, and Chanyeol knows what he’s going to say before he even opens his mouth to say, “Why don’t you just button it up?”

“It’s not the _look_ , Kyungsoo,” Chanyeol replies automatically. They’ve had this exchange a thousand times. Kyungsoo’s too practical to understand anything of Fashion. Admittedly, Chanyeol’s too lazy to be bothered to understand anything of Fashion, but he at least has a better grasp on it than Kyungsoo. And buttoning up his jean jacket looks stupid and lumpy, and that cannot be fashionable. “I also…” Chanyeol tests pulling the jacket shut, “may have overdone it a bit. It’s kind of snug now.”

Kyungsoo laughs at him. “It was already oversized! You really did overdo it at the gym.”

“I wanted to look good for the reunion,” Chanyeol whines, fussing with the buttons on his jean jacket as he walks, like he wants to do it up after all. “You said I looked good like this…”

“You explicitly asked me, what was I supposed to say? No?” Kyungsoo asks with a grin.

Stopping in his tracks, Chanyeol’s fingers still on the metal buttons of his jean jacket, snapping his head up to look at Kyungsoo. “You think I look bad like this? Like some overly muscled gym rat? Like a meathead? _Fat_ , even?”

Rolling his eyes with a little smile, Kyungsoo turns back to where Chanyeol had stopped. “We’re going to miss the bus out if you keep doing this Chanyeol. I’m still thinking about those divorce papers!” Kyungsoo turns back to walk, and pats the side of his thigh as he looks back over his shoulder. “Now heel.”

“Oh shut up,” Chanyeol grumbles, walking past Kyungsoo and taking longer strides so Kyungsoo has to be the one to hurry to catch up with Chanyeol. Hearing the clack-clack of their suitcase wheels against the sidewalk quicken as Kyungsoo tries to catch up makes Chanyeol grin smugly over his shoulder.

They speed walk all the way to the subway station, Kyungsoo hot on Chanyeol’s heels and Chanyeol hurrying on ahead, trying to stay out of range of a (probably deserved) good smack on the arm. The bus is already there, and it isn’t until they’re sitting on it Chanyeol remembers what Kyungsoo successfully distracted him from. Again—how is Kyungsoo so good at that, Chanyeol still wonders.

Rather than say anything, Chanyeol pouts and looks down at his abdomen, pinching his stomach through his t-shirt. Maybe he does look just fat and bulky. He had been going for the same body he had a few years ago, lean and muscled, to impress people at his high school reunion. Not that he would have an easy opportunity to show off abs in mid-October. Either way it doesn’t matter, because Chanyeol’s body was not on his side, and he bulked up in a much different way. No abs.

With a sigh, Chanyeol thinks back to his ideal body. The image is ingrained in his psyche, since he had a shirtless selfie as his phone background for years until Kyungsoo threatened to throw his phone off the balcony if he didn’t change it.

“Chanyeol.”

Startled out of his memory of Kyungsoo brandishing his precious phone threateningly, Chanyeol looks over to his right to see Kyungsoo looking back at him. Just contemplatively, the usual neutral Kyungsoo Look, with a bit of softness in it that Kyungsoo reserves especially for his friends.

“Yeah?”

“Chanyeol. You look handsome like that,” Kyungsoo tells him like it’s a fact, no emotion involved, just a bit of a cross look to show Chanyeol he’s serious. “Strong and healthy. You’ll have all your old classmates swooning. They won’t be jealous of you for having your life together, they’ll be jealous of me for having such a hot husband.”

The serious look breaks and Kyungsoo smiles at Chanyeol, tilting his head slightly. “And you really don’t need to be nervous. I understand why you are but don’t worry.”

Reaching across, Kyungsoo puts his hand over Chanyeol’s where they’re clasped together nervously in his lap. Chanyeol tries not to fixate on the ring glinting on Kyungsoo’s finger, or the fact that this feels different than all the other times Kyungsoo’s hands have touched his. Conscious of his sweaty palms, but trying to keep in mind that Kyungsoo is well acquainted with them and their sweatiness, Chanyeol pulls his hands apart and takes Kyungsoo’s offered left hand between his.

“Chanyeol?”

Kyungsoo is leaning forward to peer into Chanyeol’s face in concern. Without realizing, Chanyeol’s face had fallen into a stoic expression, gazing intensely at his own knees while he focused on the feeling of Kyungsoo’s hand tucked in between his own.

Taking in a deep breath to steady himself, Chanyeol offers Kyungsoo an absent minded smile, trying to play it off as nerves about the reunion. “Yeah, sorry. It should be fine.”

“It will be. I’ll protect you from all the scary white people,” Kyungsoo says, leaning back in his seat.

Chanyeol smiles a bit wider at that, imagining the tiny Kyungsoo trying to physically fight some of the big scary jocks Chanyeol remembers from high school.

The rest of the bus ride they mostly sit in silence, Kyungsoo’s eyes closed against the scenery rushing by the window. He’s not asleep, but he lets Chanyeol keep his hand even as Chanyeol gets bored enough to toy with it. Carefully Chanyeol examines Kyungsoo’s familiar hand, pressing their palms against each other and marveling at the size difference, squeezing each of Kyungsoo’s fingers. He gets distracted by the ring while tracing circles over Kyungsoo’s knuckles and starts twisting it around Kyungsoo’s finger gently.

It isn’t a traditional wedding band, because where would they have found two at such short notice, but the silver soundwave rings Chanyeol had gotten for them back when they were in university. They had been meant as a symbol of their friendship, no matter what Jongdae and Baekhyun may have said. Admittedly giving Kyungsoo his matching ring so close to Valentine’s Day may have been a bit suspicious, but hey. Kyungsoo never caught on.

(Chanyeol had crafted the airtight explanation that the rings weren’t ready for Kyungsoo’s birthday, so he had to wait a month until February 12th. Airtight.)

It makes Chanyeol a little uncomfortable now, lazily moving the ring around Kyungsoo’s finger, that such a pure honourable symbol of their friendship would be dragged into this shameful subterfuge. Also if Chanyeol were to marry Kyungsoo, which obviously isn’t an option but he can dream, he’d want to get him a ring for the occasion. Not some kind of recycled nonsense. Kyungsoo said he would be fine with the soundwave rings, but Chanyeol can’t help but yearn for the inescapable statement a gold wedding band would make on Kyungsoo’s finger.

“If you’re going to meddle with my hands the whole ride, put some hand cream on for me while you’re at it,” Kyungsoo mumbles, passing Chanyeol a tube of hand cream from his bag, not even opening his eyes.

Chanyeol nods obediently, taking the tube and getting to work. By the time they’re at the stop they need, Kyungsoo’s entire left arm has been moisturized excessively, his thick grey cardigan hanging off his other shoulder, and the sleeve of his black t-shirt rolled up to give Chanyeol access. Chanyeol is drowsy from the hour and a half bus ride, and he’s sure Kyungsoo’s left arm will never be dry again.

Stepping off the bus is like stepping back in time, and Kyungsoo’s so busy trying to shrug his sweater back on he bumps into Chanyeol’s back when he stops to stare. It fills Chanyeol with a odd sort of dread, being back in the small town he grew up in. Like suddenly he’s an insecure fifteen-year-old again, Chanyeol feels fragile and jumpy.

“Chanyeol? Come on.” Kyungsoo takes Chanyeol by the arm and tugs him over to pick up their suitcase, out of the way of others getting off the bus.

Passively Chanyeol lets Kyungsoo tow him around, walking down the sidewalk a little away from the bus depot. When they’re away from the handful of other people getting off the bus, Kyungsoo lets go of the suitcase and turns to face Chanyeol, standing close enough he has to tilt his head back a bit.

“You okay?” Kyungsoo asks softly, his other hand coming up to mirror his left, holding Chanyeol’s arms just above the elbow, grounding him.

Chanyeol shrugs, frowning. It’s so difficult to avoid eye contact when his instinct is to look down, because Kyungsoo is right there looking back up into his face earnestly.

“Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo says, impossibly softer than before, and Chanyeol feels like it’s only him and Kyungsoo and the pretty oranges of the autumn trees around them. “It’ll be alright. I’m here, and when this is over, we can go home.”

“Sorry I’m being so dramatic,” Chanyeol says quietly, trying his best to avoid eye contact.

“I’m used to it,” Kyungsoo teases him, smiling. He pulls back slightly, hands slipping down to hold Chanyeol’s forearms. With Kyungsoo further away, Chanyeol feels it’s more appropriate to make eye contact. “I know you’re nervous, but just try to remember who you are now. That’s why we’re here, to show people from high school who you’ve become. So don’t be tricked into thinking you’re in high school again.”

Nodding, Chanyeol smiles back, just a small one. Kyungsoo gets it.

“You’re practically bragging just by showing up here again, all successful and famous-”

“Rich,” Chanyeol continues, “handsome, friend to many, husband to the cutest man-”

Kyungsoo frowns and Chanyeol falters, thinking he had overdone it. “ _Cute_?”

Chanyeol’s smile grows, wide and open, relieved and full of adoration. “I meant… ruggedly handsome. Of totally average height, not short at all-”

Frown worsening, Kyungsoo swipes at Chanyeol, who cuts himself off with a laugh, dodging the blow artfully. “Divorce,” Kyungsoo hisses, holding his fist in the air as a playful threat.

“No,” Chanyeol wails, stepping closer again and submitting to a smack on the arm.

“I was just thinking on the bus about what a nightmare a prenuptial agreement would be for us,” Kyungsoo says suddenly, looking contemplatively off at the houses down the street. “Like who would get the ricecooker? The toaster oven? We bought those things together. That nice set of kitchen knives that you were given by your mother but I’m the one who actually uses them?”

“They’re basically yours at this point.”

“If we got divorced we’d have to change all our banking information. I couldn’t bear learning three new PINs at once, and I’d have to change my security question. And my online banking password.”

“Kyungsoo,” Chanyeol laughs at Kyungsoo’s vaguely panicked expression, “relax… If we get divorced I promise I wouldn’t try to steal money from your bank account. You’d have to start walking to the bank to deposit cheques yourself though.”

“Okay, you’re off the hook for divorce papers Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo says with finality. “It sounds like way too much bother.”

“Phew,” Chanyeol imitates dramatically wiping sweat from his brow.

It was all kind of a joke of course—they aren’t married so divorce is hardly a concern—but Chanyeol feels restless all the same. It wouldn’t be divorce that would cause this turmoil of separation between them. It would be marriage. People still give Chanyeol a hard time for having a roommate—a flatmate now, technically. He’s a successful music producer, Kyungsoo’s an equally successful chef, they’re not broke college kids anymore. Chanyeol always manages to worm his way out of the question but the fact is, it’s nice to live with someone. Especially when that someone is Kyungsoo.

The thought that one day Kyungsoo might meet a guy and want to get married scares Chanyeol, and not just for jealous romantic reasons. It’s not like Kyungsoo’s future husband could just move in with them. That sounds like a sitcom. The love of my life, his husband, and me. Cue laugh track. That won’t happen. One day, Kyungsoo will want to move out.

“I guess we’d better go to the school then?” Kyungsoo interrupts Chanyeol’s thoughts. “We can’t check in to the hotel until four.”

“Yeah,” Chanyeol says with great trepidation. “Let’s go.”

With the prospect of entering his old high school ahead of him, Chanyeol’s stomach churns with nervousness. The distance they walk and lack of sidewalks reminds Chanyeol of why they had to drive everywhere when his family lived here. Kyungsoo’s a city boy, and is quite baffled by small town living, especially the grand total of five sidewalks in town.

But he seems to sense Chanyeol’s discomfort and holds his hand the whole way there, pointing out nicely coloured trees every so often. The vibrations of their suitcase bumping over the road tickle Chanyeol’s other hand, but his focus is on the heavy weight of the ring on his left hand that Kyungsoo holds. Sometimes Kyungsoo’s fingers brush against it, as if by accident.

“That’s it ahead,” Chanyeol announces when they’re at the top of the road his old high school is on, mostly for his own sake. To prepare himself.

The school is very much the same, sandy beige bricks and dark blue doors with metal mesh in the windows. Two storeys, not much green space around it. And yet it feels as if it’s looming over Chanyeol and Kyungsoo beside him like a prison in a psychological thriller movie, dark and foreboding despite the clear light of day and mundane appearance of the building.

“Let’s go?” Kyungsoo prompts quietly, and Chanyeol realizes he’s stopped walking.

Nodding, Chanyeol begins moving again. “I can’t believe it’s been ten years since I’ve been here…”

Stepping inside the front door of the school into the hall is a little less nerve-wracking than Chanyeol was anticipating. It looks like the lockers lining the walls have been painted, but honestly it’s not something Chanyeol remembers that well. And they look so much smaller than before.

“Oh, are you two here for the reunion?”

Chanyeol and Kyungsoo turn to see a bored looking teenager looking at them from behind a magazine. In front of him there’s a plastic table set up with name-tags strewn across it.

“Yeah,” Chanyeol answers, letting go of Kyungsoo’s hand and cautiously approaching the kid, eyes searching the table for his name. He picks it up, “CHANYEOL PARK” in big green letters. “Is there, uh, something for the plus ones?”

“Here,” the teenager says dismissively, tapping the other side of the table, where plain name-tags and a black Sharpie sit. “Full name and who you’re with.”

Nervously, mostly because teenagers are still scary, Chanyeol grabs the sharpie and a blank tag. He manages to write “KYUNGSOO” before he second guesses himself and turns back to Kyungsoo.

“ _Do you think people will be suspicious you have a different last name?_ ” Chanyeol asks Kyungsoo in Korean, not wanting to be overheard by the kid.

“ _No_ ,” Kyungsoo shrugs, “ _even if they don’t know about Korean marriage traditions, we’re both men._ ”

Nodding, Chanyeol finishes the name-tag, writing “KYUNGSOO DOH”, and carefully below it “Chanyeol’s Husband”. Looking at it brings Chanyeol great satisfaction, and he tries not to weird the kid out by smiling maniacally at a name-tag.

Instead Chanyeol thanks the kid stiffly, returning the Sharpie to the table and turning to Kyungsoo, name-tags in hand.

“Gym’s that way,” the kid tells them lazily, pointing down the hall like Chanyeol doesn’t remember. “You can put any coats and bags in the storage room across the hall from it, door’s open.”

“ _Who says I would take your last name anyway_?” Kyungsoo grumbles as they go down the hall toward the gym.

“ _Kyungsoo Park sounds better than Chanyeol Doh._ ” Chanyeol shrugs. “ _Simple as that._ ”

“ _Garbage_ ,” Kyungsoo scoffs.

“Hey,” the kid calls down the hall after them, “what language is that? Chinese?”

Turning back in unison with Kyungsoo, Chanyeol can’t help the look of disappointed scorn that passes over his face. “No,” he answers crisply, “Korean.”

Not giving the kid a chance to comment or make a joke in extremely poor taste, Chanyeol turns and hurries down the hall again, taking Kyungsoo by the arm. The gym doors are thrown open, and a few people are milling around inside, preparing for the event tomorrow.

Kyungsoo turns and ducks into the room across the hall to leave their suitcase alongside some other coats and bags and a whole pile of basketballs and hockey sticks.

“Here,” Chanyeol says with a sigh, handing Kyungsoo his name-tag and clipping his to his jean jacket. “Well, here we go.”

Stepping into the gym isn’t quite as dramatic as Chanyeol was expecting, and he’s grateful. A few people glance up before getting back to the task at hand, but unfortunately one couple seems to have the task of welcoming people, and begins to walk over to them.

“Oh my god, Channie?” The woman gapes when she gets close enough to read his name-tag. “That _can’t_ be you!”

Chanyeol remembers the couple, just a bit. Suzanne and Louis, two of the most popular kids in his grade, high school sweethearts and clearly still together. They were never very nice to him.

“It’s me,” Chanyeol says, smiling awkwardly. They’re both shorter than him now, but Chanyeol suddenly feels at a great disadvantage.

“You look so different,” Suzanne gushes, reaching and touching Chanyeol’s arm above the elbow. “I wouldn’t have recognized you!”

Louis laughs along, “Although it’s not like there were that many Asians in our year!”

Nodding, Chanyeol searches for any other topic of conversation. This was a terrible idea. “So you two are still together?”

“Oh yes,” Suzanne answers, pushing closer to her husband. “Still going strong.”

Chanyeol finds he honestly doesn’t care, and he can practically feel Kyungsoo’s disinterest radiating off him.

With a jovial grin, Louis gestures to Kyungsoo. “So who did you bring as reinforcements? Your brother?”

Pausing, Chanyeol looks at Kyungsoo and then down at himself in bewilderment. Do they look in any way similar? “Uh, no-”

“Oh!” Suzanne seems to have found Kyungsoo’s nametag where he half hid it under his cardigan. “You’re… you’re married?”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Kyungsoo says politely, holding out a hand for Suzanne to shake. “I’m Kyungsoo,” he pronounces it slowly, carefully, for their benefit, “Chanyeol’s husband.”

Later Chanyeol will realize he was so worked up and nervous he totally missed the opportunity to relish those words coming from Kyungsoo’s mouth. But it’s probably for the best he didn’t react weirdly in front of his old classmates.

“Kyo- oh?” Suzanne immediately gives up on repeating his name, but politely shakes Kyungsoo’s hand anyway.

“You’re _gay_?” Louis asks Chanyeol, laughing awkwardly. “You didn’t have a crush on me, did you?”

“Nope,” Chanyeol answers, trying to grin along like it’s a funny joke.

“Did you have a crush on Chanyeol?” Kyungsoo asks Suzanne neutrally, like he truly is curious, but Chanyeol knows what he’s doing.

Suzanne laughs, confused. “No, of course not!”

“So that’s that settled then,” Kyungsoo says, smiling tightly as he looks between Louis and Suzanne. “None of our marriages are in danger from old crushes resurfacing. What a relief.”

This time Suzanne’s laugh is awkward, like she knows what point Kyungsoo was trying to make. “Well, welcome to the reunion,” she says, steering the conversation into safer waters. “I’m sure you two already know the schedule, the events tomorrow and the dance at the end! We’re all just setting up now, why don’t you go around and say hi to some old friends!”

“Yeah,” Chanyeol replies, grateful for the escape, although he’d hesitate to call anyone here his old friend. “We’ll do that. See you guys later!”

Kyungsoo waves politely at Suzanne and Louis as they walk away, but Chanyeol knows him well enough to tell he’s peeved.

They don’t make it very far before another old classmate is waving them down from the other side of some plastic tables. It’s… Stephanie, Chanyeol thinks, and her name-tag confirms it. While he wouldn’t go so far as to call them friends, she was never mean to him, so he guides Kyungsoo over to her.

“Channie?”

“Hey!”

“I see you got caught by Suzanne and Louis. I’m sorry about them,” Stephanie says, nervously brushing her blond hair back over her shoulder before smiling politely. “It’s good to see you again Channie. You didn’t come to the 5 year, did you?”

“No, I don’t think it was at a good time for me,” Chanyeol replies. The truth is he just didn’t want to go.

Stephanie nods in understanding. “Is it ever a good time to come back to this place?”

They share a sympathetic smile before Chanyeol looks down at the table. “What are you doing?”

“Just organizing the layout for the food tomorrow. I uh, I co-own the bakery now, and we’re doing some of the catering,” Stephanie explains. “Now the bakery’s in the building that used to be your mother’s diner.”

“I’m sure she’d be glad it’s still a space to feed people,” Chanyeol says, smiling. Reaching an arm behind Kyungsoo, Chanyeol brings him forward a bit to brag. “Kyungsoo is in the business too actually, he’s a chef.”

Eyes widening, Stephanie looks a lot more excited than Chanyeol was expecting. “Oh my gosh, I thought you looked familiar! You were a guest chef on MasterChef Canada! The culture fusion segment!”

Kyungsoo smiles, nodding. “That was me. Did you enjoy it?”

“ _Yes_! I feel like I’m meeting a celebrity!”

Chanyeol zones out a bit as they talk shop—or kitchen, rather. The gym looks a bit different, the floor is probably new. Not that Chanyeol spent that much time in the gym when he was in high school anyway, forging notes from his mother about why he couldn’t participate.

“I never would have guessed you’re married when you were on the show,” Stephanie says and that makes Chanyeol turn his head back to them, trying not to panic. Of course Kyungsoo wasn’t married on the show, they only came up with the pretending to be married scheme a week ago!

“We’re not very public about it, since we’re both kind of high-profile in our fields,” Kyungsoo explains swiftly, not sounding anywhere as worried as Chanyeol. “And I never wear my ring in the kitchen, that’s just asking to lose it in someone’s dinner.”

Stephanie laughs in understanding and Chanyeol feels a wave of relief pass through him. This seems like a first test, and they passed with flying colours.

“How did you two meet?”

“Through the Korean-Canadian Student Association at our university,” Kyungsoo answers. This part’s easy, because it’s all the truth. “I got a job at his mother’s restaurant, we roomed together in second year and we’ve been living together ever since.”

“That’s so nice,” Stephanie says dreamily. “So Mrs. Lee opened a restaurant in the city when you all moved out there?”

“Yeah, she wanted-” Chanyeol’s cut off by some commotion at the other end of the gym, making all three of them turn their heads to see Suzanne and Louis arguing.

“Ugh,” Stephanie rolls her eyes, “I wish they’d just get divorced already. Anyway, have you two signed in?”

“We got our name tags?”

“Oh you have to sign in with Wendy over there. She’s one of the student volunteers, very friendly.” Stephanie points across the gym to another plastic table with an alert girl sitting behind it. “I feel like all the other student volunteers think we’re all fuddy-duddy has-beens. Like being in your late twenties is basically on death’s doorstep…”

“I mean, I’m sure I thought the same thing when I was in high school,” Chanyeol says, smiling again. “A ten year reunion seemed ages away, I thought I’d be decrepit. We’d better get signed in then.”

After Kyungsoo exchanges a couple more pleasantries with Stephanie, they make their way over to sign in.

“Hello!” The girl behind the table, Wendy, stands from her chair with a professional smile, eyes flashing with interest, extending a hand. “Welcome back!”

“Hi,” Chanyeol says, shaking her hand, not used to such formal greetings from teenagers.

“It is _such_ a pleasure to meet you,” Wendy says as she shakes his hand vigorously.

Eyebrows shooting up, Chanyeol looks at her in surprise. “Oh, you know… who I am?”

“Of course! You’re Chanyeol Park, also known as Loey,” Wendy explains excitedly. She hadn’t even glanced at his nametag. “I’m sure some of your old classmates would realize who you were if people in this town didn’t live under a rock! But my friends and I are big fans of your work!”

“Oh, well thank you,” Chanyeol replies, smiling easily.

“I love bragging I go to the same high school you went to and now I’m actually meeting you,” Wendy gushes, before standing up straight and calming down. “Anyway. My name is Wendy Shon and I’m the student coordinator! This is your plus one, I assume?”

“Yes, this is Kyungsoo,” Chanyeol explains, not brave enough to say “my husband” aloud. He’s also a little concerned that this girl seems to be a fan of his. Chanyeol’s manager would not take kindly to rumours of a secret marriage circulating the internet.

Wendy smiles at Kyungsoo, nodding, before pulling an envelope out of a metal box full of them. “In here are two keys to the room you booked! You’re in room 206! We decided to coordinate with the hotel for any of our alumni from out of town, so their front desk wouldn’t get too overwhelmed,” Wendy explains when they look confused. “Oh, and since you listed your plus one as a spouse, the hotel went ahead and changed your reservation to a single queen bed.”

“Oh… uh, what had I booked before?” Chanyeol asks dumbly.

“Two doubles. I hope it’s alright that they changed it?”

Chanyeol blanks.

“That’s fine, thank you,” Kyungsoo says, taking the envelope offered with a smile. “Chanyeol was so nervous about coming he must not have read the hotel booking properly!”

Wendy laughs along with Kyungsoo, and Chanyeol cracks a smile, relieved. For a moment there, he thought their cover had been blown.

“Couples sleep in different beds all the time, how meddlesome,” Kyungsoo grumbles as they walk away. “Although it’s not that big of a deal for us.”

“It’s okay?” Chanyeol asks, scanning the gym nervously for any other old classmates that look interested enough to approach them.

“Why wouldn’t it be? We’ve slept in the same bed plenty of times, I’m just worried it’ll be a sad little hotel sized bed and your feet will hang off the end,” Kyungsoo says, looking over the people with Chanyeol. “You should give that girl your autograph or take a picture with her or something.”

“She didn’t ask though,” Chanyeol says, leaping at the chance to change the subject.

“She probably thought it would be unprofessional of her. Chanyeol, seriously. She was so excited to meet you she was practically climbing over the table!”

“Well, maybe tomorrow when I’m all dressed up,” Chanyeol amends, watching three more alumni walk up to Wendy’s table. “Let’s go see if we can check in at the hotel? I’ve had enough for now.”

The hotel is very close to the school, something Chanyeol never noticed when he lived here, and the lady at the front desk waves them by when they say they’re there for the reunion. When the hotel room door closes behind them, it feels comforting. They’re in a space for just them now, not _home_ , but also not a space they’re likely to run into any classmates in.

“Well I’m exhausted,” Chanyeol grumbles, leaving their suitcase by the television. “Thank god we barely had to talk to anyone. Sorry about the whole bed situation.”

Before Chanyeol can suggest one of them sleeps on the floor, or like, the armchair in the corner, Kyungsoo shrugs. “Like I said, we’ve shared beds before, it’s fine.”

And it’s true, they have, but for some reason it feels different now. At least to Chanyeol. Like the hand-holding, and the rings, and the suitcase sharing, it seems worlds more intimate and, worse, stilted and false. Even looking at Kyungsoo and holding his gaze for too long has been setting Chanyeol’s mind reeling.

Thankfully Kyungsoo makes no attempt to meet Chanyeol’s eye, instead pushing the wheeled bed into the corner of the room and throwing himself on it.

“Do you want to go out?”

Chanyeol sighs, sitting heavily on the other side of the bed. Even the sides they sleep on is automatically assumed, Kyungsoo between Chanyeol and the wall. “We don’t have any food for dinner…”

“Let’s rest first, we had a long bus ride,” Kyungsoo says, patting Chanyeol’s back where he can reach it. When Chanyeol doesn’t respond, he starts pawing more insistently, like he’s trying to pull Chanyeol to lie back.

Semi-reluctantly, Chanyeol leans back to lie beside Kyungsoo, looking up at the beige ceiling contemplatively. He tries to normalize this, it’s just Kyungsoo, they’re used to this kind of closeness. Nothing weird or unusual about it, except everyone in this town who has met them thinks they’re married. Okay, it’s weird again.

“Sorry I’m bad at this,” Kyungsoo says suddenly.

Chanyeol looks at Kyungsoo, who’s staring up at the ceiling like Chanyeol was. “What do you mean?”

Still not looking over at Chanyeol, Kyungsoo shrugs, hands folded across his stomach. “Just… being husbandly, I guess,” he explains slowly. “I know you feel awkward saying it aloud to the people here and I keep thinking I should be more affectionate to make it obvious or more believable.”

Chanyeol didn’t realize his discomfort with calling Kyungsoo his “husband” had been so obvious, and grimaces slightly while Kyungsoo’s still not looking over.

“It’s just difficult. I don’t know these people,” Kyungsoo finishes.

“Shy,” Chanyeol says quietly.

With a playful frown, Kyungsoo finally turns his head to return Chanyeol’s gaze. “Maybe.”

“Jongdae and Baekhyun acted like it would be so easy for us to pull this off, I think they set our expectations too high. I also may have overestimated how much my old classmates even care about me or how great my life is now,” Chanyeol says.

Kyungsoo rolls over onto his side, facing Chanyeol. “I think you’re also overestimating how much your old classmates’ opinions matter.”

“You’re right,” Chanyeol agrees with a grin. Kyungsoo’s always right about these things. “I just… gah! I don’t know why it’s so important to me. It’s stupid.”

“I think it’s understandable,” Kyungsoo says, shrugging again, although he doesn’t deny that it’s also stupid. “You had a bad time in high school.”

“Yeah. It’s in the past now though. Coming back here makes it seem like it isn’t. You haven’t gone to any reunions of yours and you liked your high school.”

“Yeah. I did. Middle school was awful, elementary school was bad, university…mostly terrible.”

“Mostly?”

“Well I finally made friends that lasted, even if my academics were a disaster.”

Chanyeol looks over again to catch Kyungsoo’s little reminiscing smile, watching Chanyeol’s face fondly. After all, Chanyeol was one of those friends that lasted.

“I remember sometimes,” Chanyeol says, maintaining eye contact, “when we’d had a few drinks because finals or midterms were over for the month, you’d say that you were worried you’d peaked in high school.”

“Yeah.”

“But look at you now,” Chanyeol says with a grin, ruffling Kyungsoo’s hair. “Married to one of the most popular music producers in the country!”

Kyungsoo tilts his head to look up at Chanyeol, catching him off guard with an unbearably fond smile. Propping himself up on his elbows, Kyungsoo leans over and kisses Chanyeol, pressing their lips together for a moment before pulling back with the same smile. Then he climbs over Chanyeol and off the bed.

“We’d better get going. I’m just going to hang up our shirts for tomorrow so they’re not wrinkly,” Kyungsoo explains.

Thankfully Kyungsoo has his back turned to Chanyeol as he unzips their suitcase to rummage through it, giving Chanyeol the space he needs to lie there frozen and wide-eyed. What the hell had _that_ been for? Was it practice, so Chanyeol wouldn’t freak out if they should need to kiss in public? Is Kyungsoo just trying to stay in character even when there’s nobody around? Trying to work himself up to being more affectionate in public like he said?

Had it even been the unthinkable? Had Kyungsoo just kissed Chanyeol because he _felt like it_?

The clink of Kyungsoo messing with hangers in the little closet by the door startles Chanyeol from his daze. Chanyeol decides to put it aside for now, rather than make Kyungsoo uncomfortable by fixating on it. It’s not like Chanyeol hadn’t enjoyed the gesture itself, no matter how short a kiss it was. The issue lay with Chanyeol, and his messy feelings.

Friends can kiss each other without it _meaning_ something, right?

“Do you want to just go to the supermarket we passed?” Kyungsoo is asking, totally nonchalant and casual, and Chanyeol tries to absorb some of that attitude.

“Actually I was thinking we could drop by the bakery Stephanie was talking about. It would be cool to see the building,” Chanyeol says, rolling off the bed. He never even took his jean jacket off, he realizes then. Outside clothes on the bed is a punishable offence at home. But they aren’t home.

Kyungsoo nods in agreement, handing Chanyeol the second key for him to tuck into his pocket before they leave.

Walking through the town this time is relatively peaceful, without the stomach-churning stress of the high school looming in their future.

For the first time when walking beside Kyungsoo, Chanyeol isn’t sure what to do with his hands. After blocks of dithering, he settles for stuffing them in his jacket pockets sulkily, after he fails to work up the courage to take Kyungsoo’s hand.

The bakery is nice, taking up half the building that used to house Chanyeol’s mother’s diner when they lived there. The other half is a hair salon, which Chanyeol feels his mother can’t be too mad about.

“Go stand in front of it,” Chanyeol orders Kyungsoo, waving his finger in the direction of the bakery and taking his phone out. “I’m taking a picture for my mother.”

“I should take a picture of you then,” Kyungsoo says, already standing where Chanyeol indicated.

Chanyeol scoffs. “Don’t be ridiculous. My mother’s always complaining she doesn’t have enough pictures of you.”

Acquiescing, Kyungsoo stands by the front window displaying rows of pastries and smiles brightly for the picture. His best mother charmer smile.

“You should make note of the address,” Chanyeol says, checking the picture. Kyungsoo looks sweet and adorable, just how Chanyeol’s mother likes. And most mothers, and Chanyeol. “When your book comes out you should send Stephanie a signed copy. I thought _she_ was going to climb over the table.”

“That was very exciting,” Kyungsoo says with a smile, waiting for Chanyeol. “Is that how you feel when people recognize you? Nobody ever fawns over me unless it’s in the restaurant or someone who’s really invested in becoming a chef.”

“Baekhyun and I fawn over you all the time,” Chanyeol argues, holding the door open for Kyungsoo.

“Okay, and third option, if they’re my friend. Also shut up, you always complain my food is too spicy or too salty,” Kyungsoo says over his shoulder.

Behind the counter of the bakery is a bored little teen, scrolling through her phone in a most unsubtle way. Lazily her eyes drift towards the door only to widen with shock at the sight of Chanyeol, dropping her phone onto the counter with a thud and standing up straight. Her mouth drops open slightly.

As if they’re in some kind of wild west stand-off, Chanyeol stops just inside the door, staring in deep concern at the girl. Kyungsoo however walks right up to examine the pastries behind the glass.

“You aren’t friends with someone called Wendy, are you?” Kyungsoo asks the girl, glancing in her direction.

“Would you take a picture with me?” She blurts out, holding her phone out towards Chanyeol. Then she glances apologetically towards Kyungsoo. “Yes, sorry. I’m Yeri, Wendy’s friend, how do you know?”

“She was equally as excited to see Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo explains, holding his hand out for Yeri’s phone. “Would you like me to take your picture with him?”

“Yes please!” Yeri pushes her phone into Kyungsoo’s hands and comes out from around the counter. “Is it okay?”

“Of course,” Chanyeol speaks finally, smiling kindly, no longer weirded out by the girl’s reaction. He didn’t expect to have such a fanbase here.

They take a few pictures in front of the display, Kyungsoo carefully checking each one to make sure it’s perfect.

“Wendy’s gonna be so jealous,” Yeri says afterward with glee, examining the photos herself.

“Is Yeri your full name?” Kyungsoo asks suddenly.

“Hmm?” Yeri looks up from her phone before stowing it away politely. “Oh no, it’s Yerim, I just go by Yeri for you know… pronunciation purposes. I don’t have an alternate white name like Wendy so.”

Chanyeol nods sympathetically. “I know how that goes. Although it’s setting the bar awfully low if people aren’t expected to pronounce Yerim.”

“It’s just easier,” Yeri says dismissively, shrugging it off. “Anyway, um! What can I help you with?”

Returning behind the counter, Yeri smiles at them both. “You must have come in here for your dinner, right?” She pauses, looking at Kyungsoo. “Hang on, who are you?”

“Chanyeol’s husband,” Kyungsoo answers automatically, concentrated on the pastries now.

Yeri’s mouth drops open again. “You’re _married_?”

“...yes?” Chanyeol says hesitantly.

“ _Really_? But you’ve never… Is it a secret?” Yeri asks, whispering dramatically even though there’s nobody else in the store.

“It’s kind of a secret,” Kyungsoo says when Chanyeol blanks. “It doesn’t really suit Chanyeol’s image right now, especially because of… things that are in the works. Plus we’re both kind of private people when it comes to things like this.”

“Things in the works…?” Yeri’s eyes light up before her face sobers up in determination. “Well you can count on me and Wendy to keep it a secret! She’s already told our group chat with our other three friends but other than them, we won’t tell!”

“Thank you.” Chanyeol smiles.

They leave the bakery a while later with enough pastries for dinner today and breakfast tomorrow, and drop by the supermarket too for drinks and some fruit. Chanyeol has no intentions of leaving their hotel room for any reason except the dance in the afternoon.

There’s a little table and two armchairs in the corner of their room that they eat dinner at, if a chocolate croissant and a blueberry scone each can really be called dinner.

It isn’t until Kyungsoo disappears into the bathroom to change into his pyjamas and get ready for bed that the bed situation hit Chanyeol again. But. But, Kyungsoo said it isn’t a big deal. And he’s right, they’ve shared Chanyeol’s bed lots of times when they’ve had a whole bunch of friends sleeping over. But they weren’t pretending to be married then.

Seemingly oblivious to Chanyeol’s inner turmoil, Kyungsoo exits the bathroom in his pyjamas and gets into bed, shuffling over to make room for Chanyeol. If Chanyeol dawdles while getting ready for bed himself, Kyungsoo doesn’t call him out on it.

“Good night Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo says when Chanyeol’s finally lying beside him.

Chanyeol’s looking up at the ceiling with great concentration, and Kyungsoo rolls over onto his side to face him.

“I said good night Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo repeats with a little more force.

“Oh?” Chanyeol startles, turning to glance at Kyungsoo before returning his eyes to the fascinating ceiling. “Good night!”

“Doofus,” Kyungsoo mutters before he leans in and kisses Chanyeol on the cheek, warmly, softly, briefly. Then he pulls back and rolls away from Chanyeol to face the wall, shuffling the sheets loudly as he goes.

It takes Chanyeol a long time to fall asleep that night, but finally he wiggles over a little closer to Kyungsoo, arm pressing against Kyungsoo’s curled back, and falls asleep too.

When Chanyeol wakes up the next day it’s late morning, and Kyungsoo is puttering away in the bathroom, cleaning his teeth. His spot on the bed is still warm. Blearily, Chanyeol props himself up on his elbows, wondering how Kyungsoo clambered over him without disturbing him.

“Morning,” Chanyeol calls, voice rough.

“Barely.” Kyungsoo pops his head out the bathroom door. “You wanna go out today?”

Groaning, Chanyeol flops back down. “God no.”

“Okay, well we’re not watching Zootopia,” Kyungsoo says, walking back into the room. “I checked the movies they have available and I’m telling you now.”

“Meanie,” Chanyeol whines, throwing an arm over his eyes. “Maybe _I_ want a divorce.”

After much wheedling, they end up watching Zootopia with breakfast. And as much as Chanyeol does love the movie, it’s also fun just to see Kyungsoo bend to his movie tastes every time. They spend the day mostly in bed watching movies and occasionally eating, arguing about which Avenger really _is_ the strongest and so on.

When the time to go to the dance draws closer, Chanyeol rolls out of bed with a sigh. Kyungsoo had already hung their outfits in the closet, to avoid wrinkles, so Chanyeol just grabs his toiletries from the suitcase and goes to shower.

The showerhead is mounted ridiculously low on the wall, but whatever. Chanyeol can deal.

“You’d better shower too, you can get dressed in there too,” Chanyeol tells Kyungsoo when he’s finished, coming out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist. “I’ll get dressed out here.”

Kyungsoo just looks at him owlishly from the bed.

“What?” Hunching over slightly, Chanyeol futilely tries to cover his bare chest with his free hand.

“Can’t I admire my husband’s body?” Kyungsoo asks with the hint of a grin, before popping up from the bed and breezing past Chanyeol, eyes still on him, to get his outfit and disappear into the bathroom.

Huffing out a deep and loud sigh for Kyungsoo’s benefit, Chanyeol moves to get his outfit too. He had taken careful thought. It had said a semi-formal event, but it’s also like a high school reunion. Chanyeol wanted to look good, but not overdressed.

Clean and simple seems the best way to go, a nice pair of black dress pants and a crisp white shirt, with a good belt and shoes. They’re all fitted properly, Chanyeol didn’t want to risk using old clothes and looking like he’s about to Hulk out of them. His hair is styled, parted to the side in a charming way.

“Oh,” Kyungsoo says when he finally gets out of the bathroom and catches sight of Chanyeol’s outfit. “Am I underdressed? This is what you packed for me.”

Chanyeol grins at Kyungsoo’s unsure expression. He’s wearing _exactly_ what Chanyeol had packed for him, black skinny jeans and a short sleeved button up, black with a floral pattern of white leaves and little red flowers. Like Chanyeol’s, Kyungsoo’s hair is parted gently. Baekhyun taught him how to do it himself before they left.

“You look perfect,” Chanyeol replies, still grinning. “Are you wearing an undershirt?”

“Of course.” Kyungsoo gives him a look like it was a stupid question, unbuttoning the jeans to tuck the shirt in. “I feel silly in this. Like I’m pretending to be Jongin or someone.”

“Jongin wishes he could fill out those jeans like you can,” Chanyeol teases. Something about the day is making him giddy, like nothing could wipe the smile from his face.

Kyungsoo shoots Chanyeol a scandalized glare. “Chanyeol!”

“I don’t suppose I could convince you to do a French tuck?”

“This isn’t Queer Eye Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo grumbles, finished tucking his shirt in all the way around. “You could stand to roll your shirt sleeves up though.”

“Why?”

“Because,” Kyungsoo pauses, doing up his belt carefully as he walks over to Chanyeol. Then he takes Chanyeol’s left arm in his hands and begins rolling his sleeve up crisply to the elbow. “Your arms are two of your best features, and if you can’t show off your biceps that you worked so hard on, you might as well show off your tattoos.”

“Oh,” Chanyeol says, biting his lip to try and keep his smile at bay.

“Are you going to wear that expensive watch you love talking about?”

“Rolex?” Chanyeol asks, grinning fondly. As much as Kyungsoo is a pragmatic man who doesn’t care about such frivolous material things, he still puts up with Chanyeol’s shallow need to adorn his person with status symbols. Even if he calls Chanyeol’s Balenciaga shoes ugly and forgets the brand names. And it’s good to know Kyungsoo is listening and paying attention to Chanyeol, even if most of the time he acts like he isn’t.

Kyungsoo nods, fussing with his own belt again. “That sounds right.”

“Of course I’m wearing it. How can I give off the appearance of a sexy rich man without it?” Chanyeol jokes.

Scoffing, Kyungsoo looks at Chanyeol with light derision. “It’s a watch… Either you’re a sexy rich man already or there’s nothing it can do for you.”

“Am I?”

“How should I know?” Kyungsoo asks, dodging the question and turning around to get his phone and the keys to the hotel. “We’re leaving from the school right? So we should take everything.”

“Yeah.”

“What about jackets? These outfits aren’t very warm,” Kyungsoo grumbles as Chanyeol wheels the suitcase out of the door.

Chanyeol smiles. As much as he himself is nervous, he recognizes Kyungsoo’s stalling tactics too, reluctant to go out in public in such a risque outfit. “We can just grab some out of the suitcase before we leave. You look great by the way, did I say?”

“It’s this outfit that means we need jackets,” Kyungsoo complains. “Why couldn’t I pick out my own outfit?”

“No offence, but your usual style is like… middle-aged husband with two annoying kids,” Chanyeol says as he watches Kyungsoo check his pockets in the doorway. Something about Kyungsoo’s nerves calms Chanyeol, like he has to pretend to be confident and assured for Kyungsoo, so he simply is.

Kyungsoo frowns, closing the door behind him. “I’m practically there already.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, _darling_ ,” Chanyeol plays up the word, “you’re hardly middle-aged!”

“Hmm.”

“So,” Chanyeol catches Kyungsoo as he turns away from the door, holding him in his arms, the pet name coming accidentally this time, “how many kids _do_ you want baby?”

Pressing his hands against Chanyeol’s ribs, Kyungsoo cranes his neck to look up into Chanyeol’s face. “Two,” he answers immediately.

“Just two?”

“What do you mean _just_ two? Two children were enough for both our parents!”

“But think of how cute little baby Kyungsoos would look…” Chanyeol lets the image of Kyungsoo’s adorable baby pictures distract him, tearing up a little dramatically. “I want as many as possible…”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Kyungsoo says, rolling his eyes, and for a moment Chanyeol thinks he’s pushed it too far, “we’d have to adopt, so they wouldn’t look anything like me or you!”

There’s a noise at the end of the hall and they pull apart, slowly, not guiltily.

“We’d better get going.” Chanyeol smiles down at Kyungsoo, and finds he’s actually excited to go.

The whole way from the hotel to the school, Kyungsoo doesn’t let Chanyeol forget how cold he is, and by the time they arrive Chanyeol can admit he’s a little chilled too. But better cold than hot and sweaty, which would ruin their outfits and hair, and wouldn’t impress anyone.

Wendy and the boy from the name-tag table are waiting by the entrance from the parking lot into the gym, which is decorated in streamers.

“Hello!” Wendy calls excitedly, waving to them. “Please don’t forget your name-tags! Would you like us to put your suitcase in the cloakroom again?”

“Yes, thank you.” Chanyeol passes the handle off to the name-tag boy, trying not to laugh at Wendy calling the gym supply closet a “cloakroom”.

Wendy waves them inside when Kyungsoo pulls out their name-tags from yesterday. “Have fun!”

“Thanks Wendy,” Chanyeol says, smiling at her eager face before following Kyungsoo inside.

As soon as they’re inside, Kyungsoo pulls Chanyeol aside to pin his name-tag on. Looking down at Kyungsoo, it feels intimate, like that romantic scene when the main character fixes the tie of the love interest. But it also feels close, comfortable, a little bubble of familiarity and home in a hostile environment.

“What?” Kyungsoo asls quietly, knowing Chanyeol’s watching him.

“Nothing,” Chanyeol says, shrugging, before changing his mind about saying anything. “Just. Thank you for coming with me. I don’t think I could’ve done this alone. Or at least, I wouldn’t want to.”

Rather than say anything, Kyungsoo returns Chanyeol’s gaze, finished with his name-tag, and smiles softly.

Chanyeol scrunches his face in delight. “Your cheeks look so round from up here!”

Immediately, Kyungsoo’s face falls to a dead-eyed glare, elbowing Chanyeol away from him and marching towards the food table.

“It’s like prom or something,” Kyungsoo says when Chanyeol catches up, already letting his comment from earlier slide. “They really dressed the gym up.”

“Wasn’t your high school’s prom at a hotel?” Chanyeol asks, examining the selection of cold cut meats.

“Yeah. I remember when Hyunsik asked me to go with him, I thought I would die of happiness. He meant as friends of course, but you know...” Kyungsoo waves his hand vaguely through the air. “We wore matching outfits though, and he even bought me a boutonniere to match his. It was very romantic, really.”

“Sometimes I wish I had gone,” Chanyeol admits, carefully piling food on his paper plate.

Kyungsoo looks up at him in surprise, giving him that innocent wide-eyed face Chanyeol loves so much. “You didn’t go to your prom? You’ve never mentioned it before.”

“Nah,” Chanyeol shrugs like he hadn’t just expressed regret over not going, “wasn’t exactly my scene back then. I had fantasies about classmates I liked asking me out of the blue and me showing up all handsome like a whole new person. Sort of like that Taylor Swift video, you know? But the whole thing was about me. I didn’t have anyone I truly wanted to be with like Taylor and that guy she was writing notes to through their bedroom windows. Like sure, Angela was pretty and smiled at me sometimes. And Kris was cool and actually remembered how to pronounce my name. I had crushes but just…”

“But not someone worth singing a Taylor Swift song over?” Kyungsoo finishes when Chanyeol trails off with another wistful shrug.

Chanyeol looks down at Kyungsoo with a soft smile. He gets it. “Yeah.”

“I guess that’s the point of this thing,” Kyungsoo says, popping a grape in his mouth and looking away across the dance floor. “For people who want to re-experience prom, or experience it for the first time.” After a pause, Kyungsoo switches to Korean like he doesn’t want to be overheard. “ _It’s kind of sad that some of these people want to relive prom so badly when they’re almost thirty. For you, it’s a rite of passage you never went through. But some of these people actually peaked in high school._ ”

“ _This is so fun_ ,” Chanyeol answers in Korean, gaze flitting from face to face mischievously, “ _we know so many people who speak Korean we can’t do this at home. I feel like those gossipy grannies at the supermarket by Minseok’s apartment who think we don’t know what they’re saying. That sweater adds five pounds at least. Can you believe he wore that out of the house?_ ”

Kyungsoo pouts. “ _I like that sweater. They were right though, your shirt looked unwashed and ratty._ ”

“Oh you two sound so funny,” a man’s voice speaks from beside them.

Chanyeol can’t help the sigh of irritation that leaves his mouth before he even turns to see the old classmate who couldn’t mind his own business, dressed in a rumpled blue shirt and khaki shorts.

“Is that Japanese?”

“ _What the hell is wrong with people here?_ ” Kyungsoo asks Chanyeol, before leaning around him to fix the guy with an unimpressed look. “No, we weren’t speaking Japanese,” he glances down with derision at the name-tag, “Ben.”

Ben, who Chanyeol is honestly having trouble even remembering anyway, laughs like Kyungsoo just told a joke. “I thought you were Asian Channie?”

“A lot of languages are spoken in Asia, _Ben_. You’re white, do you know German? Swedish? Italian?” Kyungsoo bites out with such cold scorn Chanyeol is shocked this Ben guy hasn’t run off yet. “We were speaking Korean. Excuse us.”

With the practiced ease of someone who has had to attend a lot of fancy parties with Chanyeol, Kyungsoo links his arm with Chanyeol’s and leads them away.

“ _Did you see what he was wearing? The grannies would be disgusted_ ,” Chanyeol jokes, trying to ease the tension. He feels a little nervous himself and Kyungsoo looks icily furious.

“ _Did you see his name-tag?_ ” Kyungsoo fumes. “ _He’s a doctor! Guessing the wrong language, fine. But-_ ”

“Kyungsoo…”

“Right,” Kyungsoo takes a calming breath, “sorry. Have you had enough to eat?”

“Yeah. I’m still nervous so I’m not that hungry,” Chanyeol explains with a playful pout, handing his empty plate to Kyungsoo who puts them in the pile of dirty ones on the table.

“ _Channie_? Oh my god, Suzanne was right!”

Suppressing another sigh, Chanyeol turns to see a woman standing just on his other side. Her name he forgets, and she doesn’t seem to have her name-tag on, but he remembers her personality and how she treated him quite distinctly.

“It’s me, Kelly,” she says, holding up her clutch where she’s affixed her name-tag. “You must remember me!”

Chanyeol smiles politely. “Of course!”

“It’s _so_ good to see you,” Kelly says, looking him up and down with interest. “Still single?”

“Nope,” Chanyeol replies like it’s a normal thing to ask someone you barely know. “This is my husband, Kyungsoo.”

Kelly barely spares Kyungsoo a glance, eyes fixed on Chanyeol. “You’re gay?”

“Yup,” Chanyeol says, choosing his battles. There’s no reason to think Kelly would even know what bisexual means if Chanyeol corrects her.

“Oh you _can’t_ be, you’re so handsome! You know I _love_ a man with tattoos,” she says, running her fingers down Chanyeol’s bare forearm in a most confusing way.

“Me too, in fact I love this man with tattoos in particular, which is why I married him,” Kyungsoo says flatly, and turns away, guiding Chanyeol along with him by their linked arms. “Goodbye!”

“Honestly,” he grumbles when they’re just out of earshot, “you have like three tattoos, and one of them’s just part of your name on your finger.”

“I thought you liked my tattoos,” Chanyeol mumbles, pouting for sympathy, trying to ignore the fact that Kyungsoo just said he loved him.

“Let’s dance,” Kyungsoo says suddenly, pulling Chanyeol towards the makeshift dance-floor.

“Really?” Chanyeol allows himself to be maneuvered through the people until they’re close enough to the dance-floor that Chanyeol can pull Kyungsoo aside, turning to face him. “ _You hate dancing though._ ”

“ _Chanyeol… I’m not fond of dancing, no. But this is your make-up prom. We have to dance_ ,” Kyungsoo explains matter-of-factly before his expression softens into a sad apologetic look. “ _I’m just sorry you only have me to go with._ ”

Tears prick Chanyeol’s eyes and he immediately leans down to hug Kyungsoo tightly, afraid Kyungsoo will read the emotion in his face too easily. Kyungsoo makes a little peep of surprise when Chanyeol’s arms wrap around him and squeeze tightly, and he automatically brings his hands up to pat Chanyeol’s lower back gently, arms otherwise pinned to his sides.

Overwhelmed by emotion, Chanyeol keeps his head buried against Kyungsoo’s shoulder, trying to not cry or make some grand declaration of love like “There’s nobody else I’d rather have”.

“ _Plus_ ,” Kyungsoo continues quietly, “ _you know what we can’t do if we’re busy dancing?_ ”

Chanyeol pulls back with a laugh, wiping his cheeks quickly, even though his face is tellingly red. “ _We can’t talk to my annoying classmates! Let’s dance!_ ”

Now Chanyeol doesn’t claim to be any great dancer, but there’s something about dancing that brings him joy, of moving to music and forgetting your cares. He knows Kyungsoo has less of a generous outlook, but his embarrassment about dancing in public has faded as they got older.

Chanyeol has no idea what prom looked like his senior year of high school. Like he told Kyungsoo, he had barely any intention of going, so he never looked into it. 

But now, under the glint of silver plastic stars and the lights flashing pink and gold, with Kyungsoo smiling up at him, Chanyeol tastes a bit of that dream. Of going to prom with the love of his life, someone he cares about so much they can make the whole world melt away when it becomes too much. Like prom would have been, it feels like a conclusion. Bittersweet, but full of hope for the future. 

And maybe he’s romanticizing the idea of prom too much, but here and now is making such grand romantic notions seem real and tangible.

They dance for three songs, ones that were popular back when Chanyeol was in high school, even one slow song. When Chanyeol puts on an act of being all stoic and stiffly polite at the slow song, Kyungsoo laughs, one of Chanyeol’s favourites, tipping his head back and closing his eyes, cheeks rounding in humour.

When the slow song is over, Chanyeol leads Kyungsoo off the dance-floor, despite his questioning look.

“We should get going, we have a bus to catch,” Chanyeol says, dramatically bringing his Rolex up to look at the time, even though he already saw it on the caged clock on the gym wall.

Kyungsoo rolls his eyes with a smile at Chanyeol’s dramatics. “Okay, you go find Wendy and let her take a picture with you, I’ll find our suitcase. Meet you by the door to the parking lot.”

“On it, Captain!”

Chanyeol finds Wendy easily, eagerly helping fix a streamer that had fallen. She tries not to act too excited when Chanyeol asks if she wants a picture with him, but her eyes gleam in anticipation. After they take a few pictures she smugly tells him Yeri will be green with envy that she got pictures while Chanyeol was all dressed up.

By the time he gets to the double doors out to the parking lot, Kyungsoo is already waiting with their suitcase, partially hidden behind a table as he pulls their jackets out.

“Can I have my black coat?” Chanyeol asks, stepping up behind Kyungsoo. “You know, the fancy one?”

“That’s in here?” Kyungsoo grumbles. “I already got your jean jacket out!”

“It clashes with my outfit! Let me,” Chanyeol says, moving Kyungsoo’s hands aside and finding the black coat he packed. “You wear the jean jacket, it goes with your outfit better.”

“It’s too big!”

“It’s _oversized_.” Without any further consultation, Chanyeol zips up their suitcase and locks it again. “Now you have to wear it.”

“Fine, fine,” Kyungsoo says, sighing softly, slipping Chanyeol’s jean jacket on, making Chanyeol smile in smug victory.

“Now let’s go before someone else wants to talk to us!” Chanyeol pushes open the door to the parking lot and lets Kyungsoo go first, smiling fondly at how ludicrously big Chanyeol’s jacket looks on him.

They’re almost clear across the parking lot when someone calls after them.

“Channie?”

“Almost made it,” Chanyeol mutters under his breath to Kyungsoo as they turn around to face who just called.

A woman stands in the gym door and when they turn she hurries through the parking lot towards them, high heels clicking and brown ponytail swishing through the air behind her.

“Hi,” she says when she reaches them, pulling her coat closer around her, covering her name-tag. “Hi. Um, I don’t know if you remember me, I’m Angela?”

“Yeah, I remember,” Chanyeol replies cautiously but politely.

Angela glances awkwardly at Kyungsoo standing beside him and Chanyeol shakes his head. “Sorry. Uh, this is Kyungsoo, my husband,” Chanyeol introduces them, the thrill of introducing Kyungsoo as his husband running through him now that he has a chance to enjoy it. “Kyungsoo, this is Angela, one of my old classmates.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Kyungsoo says stiffly, holding his hand out to shake Angela’s politely.

“Oh, you too! Look sorry to delay you guys while you’re leaving but I just…” Angela looks nervous. “I wasn’t here yesterday and I wanted to catch you. To just. Apologize I guess?”

Shocked, Chanyeol just blinks at her a few times before recovering his wits. “For what…?”

“For how we treated you. Well, no. I’m not apologizing for everyone. Just me. I always thought you were a sweet guy but you know it was high school, and I couldn’t be friends with someone like you. And that was shitty of me.”

“Oh,” Chanyeol says, still confused.

“I was just always worried that how you were treated ruined things for you, like forever. But I’m really glad that obviously wasn’t the case,” she says, glancing between the two of them with a smile. “From what I heard from some others you guys look really happy. I mean there were other unnecessary comments but that’s just typical.”

“Tell me about it,” Chanyeol scoffs.

Kyungsoo nods solemnly. “It’s been the weekend of unnecessary comments for us.”

“But I’m,” Chanyeol pauses, not sure where he’s going with his thoughts, “uh, well thanks for telling me this. We should get going though if we’re going to catch our bus.”

“Okay. Okay,” Angela says, waving awkwardly. “Thanks. Um, it was good to see you!”

“Bye,” Chanyeol says, trying not to be too short with her as they turn to leave again.

Deep in thought, Chanyeol doesn’t speak the whole walk to the bus stop. The sun is setting by the time they reach it, the sky painted beautiful pinks and oranges above the red and orange leaves of the trees with no tall buildings to obscure it.

When Chanyeol was younger, starting university, he thought every moment not filled with noise was an awkward silence. He has learned better long since, but this moment reminds him of this lesson, standing in companionable silence with Kyungsoo as they watch the sun set over the trees. The silence between them feels deep and meaningful and comfortable.

The bus arrives minutes later, and dusk has already descended.

It isn’t until the bus is on the highway home that Kyungsoo speaks.

“Well that was weird. At the end.”

“I know… I don’t even know how to react to that,” Chanyeol admits. “I’m just neutral. I think I should feel something, like be at peace, or be angry about it but I’m just… meh.”

“I think it was a her thing,” Kyungsoo says, tilting his head to see Chanyeol’s face better. “Not necessarily in a selfish way, but she was doing it for herself, not you. It didn’t really matter what you could’ve said, it was so she could absolve herself of guilt. Even if you had shouted and screamed at her, she could say to herself “well at least I tried”.”

“I mean at least she didn’t ask if we were speaking… I don’t know, Taiwanese,” Chanyeol says. “Or say we don’t _seem_ gay.”

Sighing, Kyungsoo leans his head back against the headrest. “Really. So are you glad we went?”

“You know? I am. There were good things,” Chanyeol thinks of dancing with Kyungsoo, “and the bad parts just reminded me… I guess how far I’ve come? Maybe it’s not positive or healthy, but it gives me kind of a vindictive pride that some of the people that didn’t give me the time of day or were actively mean to me… they’re not a part of my life anymore. Like Angela said. They didn’t ruin things for me forever.”

Kyungsoo doesn’t reply, just nods slowly in approval. A few moments later he leans over to rest his head against Chanyeol’s shoulder and promptly falls asleep. While Chanyeol is tired, he doesn’t feel like sleeping. At least the anxious fidgeting of the bus ride over is gone, replaced with a contentment that they’re going home.

Even though it will be an end of the whole ruse, Chanyeol would rather be at home and know where he stands with Kyungsoo than stay back in that town any longer. Although he will miss the kissing, and calling Kyungsoo his husband. It strikes him then that they never actually kissed in front of other people, the people they were trying to fool. But he’s too tired to think about what the means, if it means anything at all.

It’s dark when they step off the bus in the city, Kyungsoo still groggy from his nap, and Chanyeol automatically takes his hand to guide him.

“Finally some sidewalks,” Kyungsoo mumbles quietly, pressing their arms together.

When they finally reach their apartment, neither of them bother turning the lights on, just kicking their shoes off by the door and immediately dropping onto the sofa. Their apartment is dimly lit by the orange streetlamp outside.

“I’m so glad to be home I feel like we’ve been away for years,” Chanyeol says, head tipped back to look at the ceiling, arms splayed across the back of the sofa. “I’ll miss being married though.”

There’s a pause, and Chanyeol assumes Kyungsoo’s not going to reply at all until his voice comes. “Why?”

Shrugging, Chanyeol feels his exhaustion creeping up on him when he doesn’t think his answer through. “I don’t know. I just liked it. Having someone like that.”

“What are you talking about? I’m not going anywhere, we live together.”

“I guess. But that’s different.”

“How?”

“It just is.”

With a sigh, Kyungsoo looks away from Chanyeol, crossing his arms and slumping back on the sofa. He’s clearly given up on getting a sensible answer from Chanyeol but Chanyeol is not finished talking.

“I think. That when we’re like… forty. If we haven’t found someone we wanna marry, we should get married to each other,” Chanyeol mumbles.

“What for?”

“So we’ll be married,” Chanyeol says, almost pouting. Why is Kyungsoo questioning his brilliant idea?

“But why would you want to marry me instead of just continuing the way things are?” Kyungsoo asks carefully.

“Because. Right now we’re friends and roommates. I want to be friends, roommates, and married.”

“What would change?”

Finally Chanyeol lifts his head to fix Kyungsoo’s cautious face with a cross look. “Kyungsoo stop playing dumb, you know what married people do!"

“So… have sex? You want to be friends with benefits… when we’re forty…?”

“Not just that! Not friends with benefits! I want to be _married_! I want it all!” Chanyeol pauses, trying to figure out how to communicate this to Kyungsoo, who is being extraordinarily obtuse tonight. “I want… to be with you.”

“Like… date me?”

“Yeah, that works, but the end goal is marriage you understand.”

“Why when we’re forty?” Kyungsoo speaks slowly, treading carefully. “Why not… now?”

“I don’t want you to have to settle for me.”

“Chanyeol… no-one would settle for you.”

Even though Chanyeol tries to play it off as a bit of a joke, his hurt expression is too sincere for Kyungsoo to be fooled.

“I _mean_ ,” Kyungsoo touches Chanyeol’s arm in apology, “going out with you wouldn’t be considered “settling” by anyone’s standards.”

“And what about your standards?”

“Chanyeol. Are you…” Kyungsoo swallows. “Are you asking me out?”

Chanyeol tries to shrug in a very non-committal way, but nervousness is suddenly buzzing in his throat. “Depends on your answer.”

Raising an eyebrow, Kyungsoo gives Chanyeol an unimpressed look that makes him feel like a child being scolded. “My answer depends on whether you’re asking or not.”

Chanyeol sighs. That’s fair.

“Kyungsoo… when we danced together,” Chanyeol starts, before pausing to collect his thoughts. “You apologized for being the one I had to share my make-up prom with.”

Mistaking Chanyeol’s second dramatic pause for him finishing his thought, Kyungsoo speaks. “You’re such… a romantic, I guess. You have these notions, like what you were saying about prom in high school. You didn’t want to go with just anyone.”

“You’re _not_ just anyone Kyungsoo,” Chanyeol says firmly, looking over at him. “If high school me knew that he’d have someone like you when he grows up… he would’ve flipped. I mean, for a long time I thought that there was something wrong with me. I got little, really little crushes on people but the idea of dating anyone never even crossed my mind. The kind of love you see in movies and stuff, I never felt that. But I-” Chanyeol cuts himself off, voice dying in his throat. He had almost said it, but his nerve failed at the last second.

Kyungsoo is watching him carefully, though Chanyeol can’t bear to look at him, instead focusing on wiping his sweaty palms on the knees of his nice dress pants. Slowly, Kyungsoo places his right hand over Chanyeol’s left, stilling it where it’s fiddling with the fabric nervously. And Chanyeol’s still wearing the ring, he realizes then.

“Tell me,” Kyungsoo says softly, leaning to see into Chanyeol’s face. “It’s just me here.”

“I… I feel that way about you.”

There’s a pause, and Kyungsoo doesn’t move besides blinking, still looking intently at Chanyeol.

“So _are_ you asking me out?”

“Yeah… I guess I am.”

“For real? And _now_?” Kyungsoo asks, voice level, maybe a little playful. “Not when we’re forty?”

Chanyeol shrugs, finally looking over at Kyungsoo because he can tell he isn’t angry. “I mean, if you want to? I… I want to.”

Another lull as Kyungsoo breaks eye contact, which makes Chanyeol’s heart lurch sadly for a moment. But Kyungsoo just looks down at the floor, contemplatively from what Chanyeol can see through the darkness, not out of pity. As if he’s actually considering it.

“Well, my mother is already convinced we’re dating,” Kyungsoo says quietly.

Chanyeol nods eagerly. “And _my_ mother would throw a party if we started dating.”

“Plus Jongdae and Baekhyun might finally lay off-”

“Oh no, they’d be worse than ever Kyungsoo, all “I knew this was going to happen” and “I told you so” blah blah blah,” Chanyeol interrupts. “You know them.”

Kyungsoo sighs. “But they’d be very happy for us.”

“Everyone would be,” Chanyeol agrees, nodding again before sobering. “But don’t say yes for anyone else’s sake Kyungsoo.”

With a soft smile, Kyungsoo finally looks back at Chanyeol, just out of the corner of his eye, face lit in gentle orange. “It would make me very happy too,” he says quietly.

Chanyeol leans back, eyes wide, taking in as much of Kyungsoo as he can. A great big grin breaks out across his face as an indescribable happiness clogs up his chest.

“Are you saying yes? You’re serious?”

“Of course,” Kyungsoo says, turning fully towards Chanyeol sternly. “I wouldn’t joke about something like this!”

“So we’re dating?” Chanyeol asks, forgetting to regulate his volume in the dark quiet apartment. “We’re dating?”

“We’re dating,” Kyungsoo agrees quietly, looking more reserved, but smiling openly, trying the phrase out. “For real this time.”

“To be fair we were fake married, not fake dating, but now I have an excellent proposal idea, when the time is right for it,” Chanyeol says hastily, not sure if marriage jokes are still on the table now that it’s a legitimate option in the future.

But Kyungsoo just smiles even wider, eyes shut tight in happiness, before they open to fix Chanyeol with a fond look. Without saying anything, Kyungsoo readjusts himself on the sofa so he’s curled up against Chanyeol’s side. Chanyeol accommodates him, lying down slightly so Kyungsoo can rest his head on Chanyeol’s chest.

They lie in silence for a good couple minutes. Chanyeol thought he would have been squirming with excitement, but he finds himself full of such big emotions he just lies there peacefully, holding Kyungsoo and grinning broadly up at their familiar off-white ceiling.

“I want a kiss,” Chanyeol whines quietly, realizing they forgot. “Kyungsoo?”

Lifting his head to see, Chanyeol realizes Kyungsoo has fallen asleep like that, breathing calm. They’ll have to move eventually, because Chanyeol is too tall to comfortably lie on their sofa. At least he doesn’t have to turn the lights off, since they were never on. Although Chanyeol wonders for a moment if they locked the front door behind them.

Oh well, Chanyeol thinks, looking down at the top of Kyungsoo’s head. There will be plenty of time for kissing later. But for now, Chanyeol rests, comfortable with the familiar weight of Kyungsoo pressed into his side.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!!


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